Slide
by BOMB4Y
Summary: Salamander (Coral) x Zidane: Some things in the past are revisited, opening some old wounds. Such is the case of having too much to think, and too little to drink.


**Slide**

It had been a chance meeting. Amaranth Coral had been hitting the bars hard that cold winter evening. Sure, he drank plenty and had a stash of his own, but nothing beat hitting the good old wooden booze banks once in a while.

The crowd was the same as always. There were the plastered faces, the stupid grins and the dilated pupils he'd grown secretly fond of seeing as he strolled by to get to a private booth. He basked in the familiarity of it, and he respected all it had to offer. Nothing ever bested the comforting smell of unwashed drunkards, all having succumbed to the calming buzz of liquor flowing through their veins. He loved this place. It was quiet, it was dim. Here, he was king of his own space.

"Drinking alone?"

Amaranth winced, resting his back against the leather of the seat to glower slightly. He hated company.

"What do you want, Tribal?"

"Oh, I don't know. To relive the good old times, I guess?" Uninvited, the monkey sat himself opposite the hulking blue man, grinning wide enough for the two of them. He lifted his mug and took a long swig.

"There was never a good time with you around, you hairy bastard," Amaranth fingered the edge of his belt, the alcohol taking its toll on the blue-skinned man. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? I mean, with that Queen of yours, that is."

"I needed a change of pace," Zidane said, stretching. He then leaned back, carelessly waving his mug around and spilling a few drops on the seat. "I wasn't born for royalty, you know that."

"I didn't care enough to."

"Aww, come on, you're hurting me," the blond was beginning to slur. It was obviously not the first drink he'd had that night. He made a motion with his free hand against his chest as if to show where he had been woefully wounded, but the longer Amaranth stared at it, it really just seemed like he was rubbing his nipple.

Holy shit, that was hot.

"Don't do that," the bounty hunter growled, setting his mug down hard against the wooden table.

"Do what?"

"Rub your nipple. Don't do that."

"Oh, is that boooothering you?" Zidane began to chuckle, his tail swaying quickly in quick strokes to the left and right. "Or do you want me to rub yours?"

"I'm not taking any more of this shit."

Leaving the last of his beer untouched, the redhead stood up. He sauntered towards the bar and slammed some Gil in front of the keep, who thanked him as he made his way through the door.

Cold air hit his face as he stepped into the wintry street. Amaranth turned a corner, and sighed when he heard a wobbly assortment of footsteps rush after him down the alley.

"What's your problem?" Zidane demanded. His tail was curled up in what seemed like a feral lemur's, and he looked for all in the world lonely and miserable.

"You are. You bother me. We had some sick sex, we kicked some tranny's ass, you disappear for four years, come back, bag yourself a Queen, and then you turn up here acting all flirty and shit," he folded his arms and stared down at the blond. "You're not lonely. You're not miserable. Stop acting like you are. What, you regretting it all now?"

"I don't," Zidane said, shaking his head. "I don't regret it. I do love Da— Garnet. It's just… I don't know."

He paused.

"Sometimes I think back about stuff and I end up thinking about you too."

There was a moment of silence as the snow steadily fell from the sky in the form of little flakes of powder. They littered the path, enveloping the whitened street with a further ashen hue. Amaranth stared long and hard at the monkey; neither said a word. At long last, with a long sigh, the redhead ran his hand through his unruly dreadlocks.

"Zidane, go home."

The blond exhaled and stared at his hands, biting his lip.

"I'm sorry."

"Right you are."

The pair continued to stand under the snow, neither making a move to leave. Amaranth looked hard at the tailed young man. Then, rolling his eyes and mouthing a "to hell with this", he walked across the small alley, shoved the blond against a wall and delivered what he knew to be a toe-numbing, brain-curling, belly-searing kiss.

It was the same one they'd shared years ago, under a small doorstep roof in an alley so very much like this one - eyes closed, tongues entwined, breaths hot in the cold, nippy air. The redhead grunted, clearly aroused, and, just like that old fleeting heated moment they'd shared before, he wedged a leg between the his partner's, sitting the boy on top of it, and moved his hands up to tease that same nipple Zidane had been teasing just minutes before. Smaller hands trailed after his, as if trying to trace the lines of the past to sate a deep, burning hunger. He allowed them to, and cupped his own around the ruddy chin, catching in it a bit of the wispy golden hair his fingertips had, in their own small way, grown to recognize.

Then it stopped. With the popping sound of lip detaching from lip, it stopped. Still panting, he blew into the blond's lips.

"Whatever fucked up thing we had before is over, savvy?"

Releasing his grasp to lightly push the blond away with one hand, the blue-skinned man took a step backward, increasing the distance between them. He looked the monkey up and down, and sneered. "I'm letting this slide, Tribal. Do this again and I'll seriously mess your shit up. Not fucking kidding."

"Yeah, I know," Zidane laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head. He stared at Amaranth, and the man stared back.

Then, turning his back, the blue-skinned bounty hunter left the alley. As the snow continued to pile, slowly but surely, a flight of softer footsteps turned to scurry away in the general direction of the castle that loomed ahead.

**END 23-MAR-2013**


End file.
